“Have a seat,” she said, gesturing toward a table in the center of the room. The bracelets on her right arm came sliding down past her elbow, crashing together as they did.
Bonnie crossed to the table and took a seat.
Madame LePanto positioned herself opposite Bonnie. Folding her hands in front of her she said, “Now, what can I do for you?”
“I’d like a tarot reading, please.”
Madame LePanto arched a silvery brow. “So? That is good. A moment, please, while I get my cards.”
She crossed the room, bracelets jangling as she walked. Bonnie tried to place her accent. It was not too strong, and it didn’t sound like any of the ones she was familiar with. She wondered where Madame LePanto was from.
“Is there a specific question?” asked Madame LePanto, seating herself again.
Bonnie hesitated “No. To tell you the truth, I’m trying to learn how to use the cards myself. I want to have a reading to see how it’s done.”
Madame LePanto looked at her intensely. “You must understand something before we start,” she said slowly. “The tarot is not a trick. There are games we mediums play, things we do to please the public.” She smiled and shrugged. “It’s a living.” For a moment she seemed like a different woman. “But the tarot, that is different. The tarot is serious.”
The tarot is not a trick. Bonnie shivered. Those were the very words the gypsy woman had used when one of her great-uncles had asked for a reading.
“Why do you want to learn the tarot?”
Bonnie hesitated. She was already involved with enough lies about the deck. Moreover, something about Madame LePanto made lying to her seem rather pointless, which was a relief in a way. Bonnie was not used to lying, to hiding things from her parents. But from the moment she had first seen the tarot deck, she felt as though she had set her feet on a path she could never leave. She had to travel the length of it.
Still, there was no need to keep anything secret here.
“I have a deck of tarot cards. They’re very old and very beautiful. I want to learn to use them.”
“Why?”
Bonnie paused for a moment. She thought she had already answered that question. “Well… it would be fun to be able to tell fortunes for my friends.”
Madame LePanto set her mouth in a grim line. Bonnie sensed great disappointment.
“What else would I want to use them for?” she cried. “I mean, they don’t actually work. You can’t tell the future with them. Not really.”
Madame LePanto’s voice was slow and quiet, but there were fireworks in her eyes. “The tarot is not a trick.”
“Yes, you’ve said that,” said Bonnie. She was beginning to feel desperate, though she wasn’t certain why. “But if it’s not a trick, what is it?”
“You know,” said Madame LePanto evenly.
Bonnie hesitated. When the words came, it was as if someone else had spoken them. “The tarot is the royal path to knowledge.”
Madame LePanto closed her eyes. She smiled, a very small smile, and nodded her head in assent.
Chapter Six
It was almost dark when Bonnie left Madame LePanto’s cottage. The evening light shimmered in her hair, making it glow like burnished copper.
A cool breeze blowing in from the water caused Bonnie to shiver even as she zippered her light jacket. Yet the action was taken almost automatically, for in truth she was hardly aware of the cool wind or the lengthening shadows. Her head was spinning with what the old woman had taught her, and she was filled with a strange combination of excitement and fear.
It had been a good session.
Madame LePanto herself had grown more and more excited throughout the afternoon, and had finally made Bonnie promise she would return in two days. Part of Bonnie was frightened by the idea. Another part, stronger, more daring, could hardly wait.
Her mother was upset when she reached home. “Where have you been, Bonnie? I held supper for you, but we finally went ahead and ate.”
Her angry tone startled Bonnie out of her trance. Blinking at her mother, she said, “What? Oh, I’m sorry, Mom.” She rummaged in her mind for an excuse, and finally said, “I stopped to do some studying on the way home and just got carried away. I completely lost track of the time.”
Which, when you came right down to it, was the absolute truth—as long as you didn’t get too specific about what she was studying.
Mrs. McBurnie was frowning, but she seemed to find the answer acceptable. “Well, there’s a plate for you in the oven. Be sure to wash up after you’re done.”
“Okay, Mom.”
Bonnie turned off the stove and removed the plate from the oven. She lifted the aluminum expectantly, but then frowned. Meat loaf! She was glad she hadn’t hurried.
#
She was just finishing her meal when Randy wandered into the kitchen. “Hey, Bonnie!” he said eagerly. “Guess what we did in science today!”
“I’m not sure I want to know. If you’re this excited, it must have been pretty gross.”
“No, it was totally cool. We dissected an eyeball!”
Bonnie put down her fork. “Randy, go away.”
“But don’t you want to hear about it? Man, it was great. You wouldn’t believe the goop that’s inside one of those things.
“Randy!
“But the best part was when Monica Barton got sick and tossed her—”
Bonnie got up and carried her plate to the sink. She scraped off the meat loaf and turned on the garbage disposal. “You are a disgusting human being,” she said over her shoulder.
Randy smiled. “I know,” he said contentedly.
Bonnie sighed and thought again how nice it would be to go through life as an only child. She walked into the living room. “I’m going upstairs to study,” she said, not addressing anyone in particular.
Her father glanced up from his newspaper. “You must have taken those midterm grades pretty seriously, Bonnie. Good for you.”
She smiled, but felt a little sick inside. If she were doing half as much schoolwork as she was letting her parents believe, she would be in really great shape this quarter.
“Well, I would like to improve,” she said lamely.
As she climbed the stairs she found herself wondering where the edge between lies and truth actually lay. It was the second time that night that she had spoken the truth with the intention of actually deceiving. Could she be a liar while telling the truth? She didn’t like the idea.
Before she could settle at her desk, the phone rang. She ran into the hallway, shouting, “I’ll get it!” Snatching up the receiver, she was delighted to hear Alan’s voice.
“Hi, Bon! I thought I’d call and see if you wanted to go for a walk this evening.”
“I’d love to.”
“Great. I’ll be over in a little while.”
“Good.” Bonnie hesitated, then said, “I’ve got something I want to tell you about.”
“Okay, I’ll try to speed things up. Bye.”
“Bye, Alan.”
“Bye, Alan,” repeated a mincing voice.
Bonnie felt her face go red. “Randolph Roderick McBurnie, you get off that phone!”
She heard a shriek of laughter, then a click.
“Honestly, sometimes I could just kill that kid. I’m sorry, Alan.”
Alan laughed. “Don’t let it bother you. I was the same way when I was his age.”
“Well, I don’t remember it. But if you were, I probably couldn’t stand you, either!”
“Fortunately, I’ve gotten much sweeter since then.”
She smiled. “Much. Cuter, too.”
“See you in a minute!”
Bonnie put down the receiver and tried to decide how much of what had happened that afternoon she should share with Alan. How much would he even believe?
“Bonnie!” called her mother. “Alan’s here.”
She blinked in astonishment. Alan here already? How could that be?
She
looked around. How long had she been standing here? She was going to have to watch it. Her friends wouldn’t have much patience with her if she turned into a total space cadet.
“Bonnie? Did you hear me?”
“Be right there, Mom!”
She rushed to her room, grabbed a sweater and her backpack, and hurtled down the stairway. Alan was lounging in the doorway, dressed in jeans and a dark blue windbreaker that set off his blond hair perfectly.
He smiled when he saw her. “Ready to go?”
“You bet.” She turned to her mother. “We won’t be gone long, Mom.”
Mrs. McBurnie raised an eyebrow.
“Not more than an hour, Mrs. McB,” said Alan. “I promise. We may walk as far as Dorsey’s and have some hot chocolate. That’s about it.”
Bonnie’s mother smiled, and Bonnie had to suppress a chuckle. Alan had her totally charmed.
#
“So, what is it that you’re dying to tell me?” he asked as soon as they were away from the house.
“Promise not to laugh?”
“Do I ever?”
“Often. But if I make you promise not to first, you usually stick to it.”
He spit in his hand. “Cross my heart. Which is really yours anyway.”
“You romantic fool. All right, I’ll tell you. While you were at track practice after school today I went to see Madame LePanto.”
“I thought you said she was a fraud.”
“Well, I thought about it after you mentioned it, and it seemed like it might be interesting. At least it’s a way to learn more about the cards.”
“All right. So why is it a big secret?”
“I told you—my mother has a real thing about ESP and the occult and stuff. She gets really touchy whenever I mention it.”
He made a face. “That’s silly. It’s just a lot of hocus- pocus. Fun, but—”
Bonnie interrupted him. “But it’s not. Not hocus-pocus, I mean. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. The weirdest thing happened this afternoon.
“What?”
She hesitated. “You promise you won’t laugh?”
“Geez, I already crossed my heart. What do you want? An oath in blood?”
“Don’t say that!” She paused. “It’s weird. And there’s too much weirdness in my life right now anyway.”
“Are you referring to me, or Randy?”
“I’m referring to those cards. Listen, Alan. Madame LePanto says I’m the most promising student she’s ever had.”
Alan took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Bonnie, but she probably says that to everyone. It’s a way to keep them coming back. How much is she charging you?”
“She’s not. She’s working with me for free. And listen—she doesn’t even know how good I really am!”
Alan looked at her cautiously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She bit her lip. “This is going to take a bit of explaining. Okay, to begin with there are seventy-eight cards in a tarot deck. Each of them is different—each has its own meaning, and a different meaning if it’s reversed.”
“Reversed?”
“That means upside down. Anyway, it’s supposed to take months of study to know them really well.”
“So?”
“So I know them all now.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know every single thing Madame LePanto told me today. We went through the whole deck in detail and it’s as if—well, let’s say you went to a movie, a long one. When you came out you could tell someone about it, right?”
“Sure, but—”
“Now imagine what it would be like if when you came out you could recite every word of the dialogue perfectly. Every word. Even list all the credits without making a mistake. That’s what it was like. Every single thing she said stuck. Even the way she said it. And exactly what she was doing when she said it.”
“Geez, Bonnie. Your grades sure ought to improve this term.”
“Stop it! You promised not to laugh!”
“I’m not laughing. I just don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“It’s not that. But—”
“No, I don’t blame you. I can hardly believe it myself. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you. I want you to check me on it.”
“How?”
She opened her purse. “Here are the cards. She looked around. Is there someplace we can sit near here?”
Alan thought for a second. “The library’s only three blocks away. We could go there.”
“I don’t want anyone to hear us.”
“So we’ll look it over. If we can’t find a private spot, we’ll go somewhere else.”
#
Mrs. Feeny smiled when she saw them come in. “Hello, Bonnie—Alan. How are you two tonight?”
Bonnie smiled back. “Just fine. We thought we’d come in and do a little studying.”
“Well, it’s a slow evening—lots of room.”
They found a table in a deserted corner of the library. Bonnie handed the cards to Alan.
“All right, pick a card.”
“Any card? Is this a trick?”
“Will you be serious? Look them over. See how they’re illustrated? Not just the face cards; all of them. And every single one is different—the two of cups is completely different from the three of cups, and just as different from the two of wands. All in all there are seventy-eight completely different pictures, and every one of them is very detailed. Now, pick a card. Tell me what it is, but don’t show it to me. Then I’ll describe it to you.”
“All right. Shall I look at them, or pull one out blind?”
“Whatever you want.”
Alan laid the deck down in front of him and spread it out. He selected a card from the pack and turned it over so he could see it, shielding it from Bonnie as he did.
“Okay, I’ve got the ten of swords.”
Bonnie turned pale. “Not that one. Let’s do another.”
“Why?”
“Never mind. Just do it.”
Alan grimaced. “We’re off to a great start. Okay, I’ll try again.” He put the card back, then picked up the deck and started to shuffle it.
“What are you doing that for?”
“I don’t know. I just thought it was a good idea.”
“Put them down!”
“All right! Geez, you don’t have to be so touchy. You want me to pick another card?”
She nodded.
He turned a card over and looked at it.
“Well?”
“Ten of swords again.”
“Put it aside. And don’t shuffle them this time.”
He did as she instructed, then drew another card.
“What is it?” Bonnie asked.
For a moment Alan didn’t answer. When he looked at Bonnie, there was a hint of fear in his eyes. “What’s this?”
He turned the card around. On it was a knight in silver armor, riding a noble horse. The knight carried a black flag and wore a helmet. The helmet’s visor was raised. Through it peered not a face, but a skull. At the bottom of the card, in large letters, was the word Death.
Bonnie took the card from Alan’s hand, her fingers trembling slightly. She stared at it for a long moment, then finally said, “This isn’t necessarily a bad card.”
“Really? You could have fooled me.”
She shook her head. “The tarot is very symbolic. The Death card stands for change. The ancients who created the cards were not always afraid of death. For some of them it just meant a transformation of energy. ‘All things change. Before the new can live, often something old must die.’ That’s what Madame LePanto said.”
“Well the Death card is still frightening,” said Alan stubbornly. “Look, I don’t think we should mess around with these anymore.”
“You afraid of a little hocus-pocus?” Bonnie asked sharply. She regretted her words at once as a har
d look crossed Alan’s face.
“All right,” he said. “Next card.” He pulled one from the deck.
“What is it?”
“Guess.” His face was still hard.
“Alan, I’m trying to show you what I learned, not how good I am at guessing things.”
“Well, after the last cards I picked, you ought to be able to guess this one. It looks like it makes sense.”
“Alan—”
“Guess.”
She closed her eyes. “It’s number 16, the Tower.”
“You called it, kiddo.”
“Alan, we’re not doing a reading.”
“It sure looks like it’s turned into one.”
“Well, the Tower isn’t necessarily a bad card, either.”
“Oh come on. Look at this thing. No. Tell me what it shows. Go ahead—let me see what you’ve learned.”
Bonnie closed her eyes. In her mind she saw Madame LePanto’s hands, firm and strong despite her age, turning the cards until she reached the Tower. It was as real in Bonnie’s mind as if she were actually holding the card before her eyes.
“The card shows destruction. It features a tall tower with clouds behind it. The tower has been struck by lightning. The top is shattered. Fire licks at the windows. Two people are falling from it.”
“That’s not a bad card?”
“It depends on what is being destroyed. It could mean the ruin of pride or false hopes. Surviving adversity makes you stronger.”
“Hello? Is that you in there Bonnie? You don’t talk like that.”
“I’m repeating what Madame LePanto told me.”
“Look. I think you’d better stay away from that wacko. And I think you ought to get rid of these cards, too. I don’t like them.”
“Well I don’t like everything you do, either. That doesn’t mean I tell you to stop doing it.”
“Bonnie, these things are dangerous.”
“What do you mean? They haven’t hurt you.”
“I know, but—oh, I don’t know what to say. They just give me the creeps. Look at the eyes on those things. They’re enough to keep you awake at night.”
He put the Tower card in front of Bonnie. Her description of it had been perfect. There was only one real difference between her card and the one in Madame LePanto’s deck. Here the artist had painted the eyes so realistically that despite their tiny size the fear and pain of the falling figures could almost be felt. Bonnie stared at the card for a moment, focusing on one of the figures. Suddenly she gasped. For an instant, just an instant, she had seen through those tortured eyes into a world of flame and despair.
Eyes of the Tarot Page 4